


At the gym.

by twistedmiracle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy Being an Asshole, Draco is a financial planner, Duh of course Draco is gorgeous, Happy Ending Anyway, Harry Potter Being an Idiot, Harry Potter being Persistant, Harry and Draco don't really do it correctly, Harry and Draco mess around with BDSM, Harry could really use a financial planner, M/M, TM's drabbles, That's a good excuse right?, draco is gorgeous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 05:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12741918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedmiracle/pseuds/twistedmiracle
Summary: Draco and his friends are invited to consider investing in a new business: a men's gymnasium; complete with swimming pool. Pleased with what he sees there, Draco doesn't just invest money, he becomes a member and ends up investing quite a lot of time and sweat. It's good for his health, but what about his social life?





	At the gym.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When the new gym opened, Draco joined. Who cared if exercise was a Muggle, even American craze?

He toured with Blaise and Theo before it opened, getting wooed as potential business partners, and Draco could see the quality in the machines, the facilities, and the few lively staffers running around.

"You want that Hans, fellow, don't you?" Blaise teased as they left. 

"And what if I do?" Draco said, refusing to rise to the bait. "He's got everything a busy financier could want in a rough, eager tumble: huge muscles, big hands, a fat wand… and he barely speaks English."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The gym opened 5am every day, so that's when Draco arrived. This allowed him an hour's exercise, a relaxing swim, and a hot shower before a long day of seeking the highest quality investments for his wealthy clients.

He kept up this routine for six months before he had any reason to change.

Therefore, by the day he had to rearrange his schedule for an early meeting with a client who'd accidentally arranged a 7am portkey to Moscow, he'd bulked up his shoulders and thighs quite a bit while noticeably trimming his waist.

Only one, brand new, suit even fit.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco didn't want to exercise after meeting with Rybolovlev. He was tired, as Rybolovlev was an idiot. He was already at work, and while he'd cleared his schedule for the next three hours, it was tempting to just hole up and get a lot of paperwork done.

But Draco knew there was nothing like consistent exercise for his appearance and health. It was annoying, honestly, that magic couldn't substitute for pumping iron, but even his ridiculously expensive private Healer had praised the quality of his numbers at his last physical, so he sighed, _Accioed_ his gym bag, and Flooed over.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco had never seen the gym so crowded.

He liked it.

Sure, it was distracting, seeing all those trim, muscular, sweating men. Watching them lift weights, run the treadmills, undress in the locker room. He wasn't sure he was always managing to be surreptitious. He _was_ sure that not all of the men he was looking at cared. He was suddenly, surprisingly grateful that he hadn't been here when it was busy until he'd bulked up, trimmed down, and increased all his weights, reps, laps and quality of form. He'd caught at least as many appreciative glances as he'd flashed.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Despite the meat market quality of his morning, Draco was still surprised as hell to see Harry Potter enter the pool as Draco was toweling his hair. Surprised to see Potter walk right up to him. Surprised when Potter gave a low, admiring whistle.

Draco lowered the towel and looked dumbly at Potter, feeling too stupid to speak as he watched Potter _check him out_. 

"Since when are you even gay?" he demanded, and then felt himself blush up to his ears and down to his nipples when in response, Harry Potter laughed joyously, without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Since eighth year, when I saw you soaping in the Quidditch showers," Potter stage-whispered before sauntering into the pool.

To his horror, Draco realized - after Potter emerged and shook his wet, black mop - that he'd stared at Potter's arse the whole time he'd been walking away. He couldn't help it. That was one top-quality arse.

Gathering the last of his haughty dignity, he rushed away to take his fastest gym shower yet. The idea of Potter seeing him in the shower (again?!) after what Potter had just said, and after the way Draco had helplessly reacted… he couldn't risk it.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco's nerves took forever to settle. Behind on multiple projects, he ended up eating both lunch and dinner at his desk.

He did this too often, Draco reflected; downing his last samosa. While he could get excellent quality take away Flooed in, how long had it been since he had been on a proper date? Or even had dinner with a friend? 

He nearly picked up a quill to owl Blaise or Pansy right then and there, but hesitated. Could he keep secret his encounter with Potter, or would they see right through him? Sighing, he went back to work.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco was there when the gym opened the next morning at 5am. He wouldn't let a little thing like a chuckling Savior keep him from his proper, quality, Thursday workout. He'd get right back on the damn metaphorical horse and this time - even if Potter showed his goofy face - Draco wouldn't get thrown off.

Draco told himself he was _not_ disappointed when he didn't see Potter at the weights, machines, pool. He swore he wasn't taking longer than usual. 

And when Potter strode calmly into the locker room just as Draco was leaving, Draco didn't so much as coldly nod.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Which made it all the more surprising when Potter followed him, confronting him in front of the Floo.

"Wait! Malfoy, wait! Damnit, man, don't you listen?"

Draco could hear him perfectly, he simply didn't want to respond. He sighed when Potter stepped in front of the Floo. "Some of us work, Potter," he said, tapping his foot.

"Knew you heard," Potter said petulantly.

Draco said nothing, instead looking at his Rolex.

"I want to take you to dinner," Potter blurted, looking stunned. 

Draco looked him up and down, very slowly. "No," he said and sidestepped Potter, right into the Floo.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco spent the rest of his day dealing with quantities of bullshit. He met only with terrible clients. He dealt only with obnoxious staff. At his boss' suggestion he took a long, leisurely lunch, but while Theo was decent company, Draco returned to see everything go pear-shaped the second he became aware of it.

Or so it seemed to Draco, who was about ready to dance naked through the halls, screaming.

Finally, his boss sent him home. "Get yourself together, Malfoy. Come back when you fix whatever's cock-blocking your work."

"If you only knew," Draco snarled, stepping into the Floo.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Fuck their propensity for teasing, Draco decided as he arrived home. He missed his friends. He owled Pansy and Blaise. Theo, too, while he was at it. They all met at the club for a late dinner. He greeted them in the lobby with smiles and hugs, and pretended not to see the looks of surprise they shot one another.

Over salmon and rare roast beef, the four of them got pleasantly mellow together, laughing about the latest runway fashions and terrible parties.

Finally, over flan, Pansy broached it. "So," she said, sipping liqueur. "What's this I hear about Potter?"

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"It's the oddest thing," Draco dished - seemingly eagerly. He'd thought about how to handle this very question. (He'd been certain at least one would ask.) "I've been going to the gym for months, but I'd never seen him there. Then I arrive just slightly later than usual, and not only is he positively _everywhere_ , the man won't leave me alone! I knew I was looking good these days, but this is charming proof." Draco laughed lightly, and tipped his head back to finish his liqueur. Then he looked back at the table to survey the faces of his calculating friends.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Potter's gay?" Pansy asked.

"Gay, bisexual." Draco airily waved the question away. "Gay for _me_ , is what matters. Seemed awfully upset when I turned him down."

"Why did you?" Theo asked, taking up a bite of flan. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I know it's late, Theo. Did you need a wee nappy-nap? You've apparently forgotten… years."

Blaise's scorn was audible, but Theo was undeterred. "I'm serious. We're not kids anymore. Potter's famous, independently wealthy, extremely well-connected, from a good family on his father's side. Why wouldn't you go out with him, at least once? Are you still in 8th year?"

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Pansy was looking at Theo with appreciation. As though she agreed Draco was _immature_!

Draco turned to Blaise for sense, and was glad to see it on his face. "Theo, this is _Potter_. He got your fathers _arrested_." 

Theo winced, but argued back. "And you don't think all three deserved an early trip to Azkaban? Mine sure as fuck did. He was evil."

Draco paused. He'd never heard Theo state that quite so baldly before. Even when quite drunk and in private.

Blaise lowered his eyebrows. "My point is, it would be hard for them to put their pasts aside."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"No," Theo disagreed, leaning closer. "Your point is _Draco_ can't put the past aside. Which is my point, too. If _Potter_ couldn't, he wouldn't have asked Draco out early this morning."

Triumphant, Theo leaned back. Pansy, traitorous bint, gazed at him with new eyes. Draco rolled his.

"His past is irrelevant," Draco declared definitively. "Potter is an annoying do-gooder with no appreciation for society, culture, history or traditions. He and I have nothing in common besides Hogwarts, and being bent. I am not interested."

"So that's settled, then," Pansy said, smiling. Grateful, Draco smiled back and gestured for the check.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Despite having seemingly convinced his friends, Draco spent the next week working to convince himself. "Potter is uncouth, common, profoundly annoying," he chanted internally, multiple times a day.

He returned to his previous pattern and arrived at the gym the minute it opened every weekday, while Potter continued (presumably) to go later. He continued to be a godsend to Rybolovlev, who continued to be a moron - in and out of Russia. He continued to eat most meals at his desk, continued to bristle at coworkers who didn't deserve it, continued to resent nearly everything about his life. 

Harry didn't call.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He occasionally wondered at Potter's willingness to give up so easily, conveniently forgetting how hard it was for Potter just to send an owl. His employer actually did most of that warding, preferring employees to receive nothing personal at the office unless it was a true emergency. The Manor, too, had protection woven in, and Draco had carelessly upgraded it all the day Potter had dared ask him to dinner. Then he'd mostly forgotten.

So when Potter showed up in his office, dressed like a fashion model and smiling like the devil, Draco could hardly speak to insist he go.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I'm here for our lunch meeting," Potter said. His smile was assured. Infuriating.

Draco raised one eyebrow. Then he called his assistant. "Why is Potter in my office?"

"He's your noon, sir," Chris responded immediately. "Did you want to go out, or have lunch ordered in?"

Draco raised his other eyebrow, then carefully smoothed out his face.

"Why are you actually here, Potter?" he leaned back in his chair and stared the other man down.

"For your help, Malfoy. I've a considerable set of assets. I understand you're just the man to help me… plow them deep into the market."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Potter," Draco tried again. "I need a real answer."

"I've given it." Potter smiled, vexing as ever. He leaned forward, standing over the desk, while Draco still sat: feeling dwarfed by the shorter man. "You've the best venture model in London. I've asked around. I hear you've been pounding away at it for ages, perfecting your magic touch, enlarging projections and unfailingly inflating every client's portfolio."

Draco shifted uneasily. Everything Potter said was accurate, but there was nonetheless a slight flavour of… disobedience which he couldn't completely dismiss. 

"Very well," Draco tried, feigning patience. "Let's see your full financial disclosure."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

To Draco's surprise, Potter pulled something from his pocket which expanded into a large, messy accordion file full of papers. Draco bade Potter sit, then took a leisurely fifteen minutes skimming through everything. When he'd finished getting the lay of the land, he leaned back in his chair and frowned. "Your portfolio is in abysmal shape," he decreed with authority. "Do you have anyone working on your investment plan?"

Potter smiled wryly. "I guess I just need you to take good care of me," he said. His grin promised all manner of non-financial rewards. Draco looked away and breathed, slowly.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I say this only because you asked me to dinner the other morning," Draco tried, focusing not on Potter, but looking instead at the rectangular shapes of his stylish new glasses, "and not because I sense anything improper. But you should know that we here at Kirk, Temppeli and Chrám do not permit financial advisors to pursue or accept romantic entanglements with clients."

Potter crinkled his brow and leaned forward. "Odd," he finally pronounced. "Would you not be permitted to do your own finances, then? Or those of your spouse?"

"Er," Draco said, flustered; caught in his lie. "That's different."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Is it?" Potter said, easily. "I'll have to ask Temppeli about that when we play Quidditch. Til then, how long would you need to whip my portfolio into shape?"

Draco perked at the use of his boss' name. He wasn't _that_ easy to control. He'd been manipulating people before Potter knew how to spell it. 

"But Potter," he said, affecting a conciliatory shape to his words and demeanor. "If you're friends with Temppeli, why are you in my office? You should have the best."

"Chris!" he called. "Take Potter to Temppeli's office. He's no need of the likes of me!"

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco held his snicker as Chris nervously summoned Potter.

Temppeli might be young and fit enough for Quidditch, but he wasn't… easy-going. His great-grandfather founded the firm, and the young heir still sought to prove himself to a lingering ghost who never smiled or left the premises. Junior's financial track record was no better than Draco's, and wouldn't be, as he was moving away from working with clients. Frankly, he couldn't take the heat. Instead, he recruited clients, researched potential investments, and hunted new talent for the firm. Nonetheless, he was boss, and celebrities warranted special treatment. Wanted or not.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Potter stood, sauntering after Chris willingly enough. But before he walked through Draco's door to finally leave him in peace, he stopped and casually rested his hand on the doorframe. "Draco," he said, and Draco looked up, narrowing his eyes in annoyance.

"Potter?" he asked in his blandest, least encouraging tone.

"Temppeli's a great guy, but I'm pretty sure he can't generate the kind of… heat I'm looking for."

Unwillingly, Draco felt a surge of lust and competitiveness rise in his heart. Potter was right. Temppeli couldn't enlarge Potter's wrecked financial portfolio any more than he could thicken Potter's cock.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco might be competitive, but he didn't call Potter back. He might suddenly care to grow and promote Potter's assets. He might want to fuck him. But he not only had his pride, he also considered himself pragmatic, astute, and prudent. Slytherin, in other words.

Draco looked at his watch and estimated. Potter might have been with Temppeli for as many as five minutes already, he needed to hurry. "Chris?"

"Yes, Mr Malfoy?"

"When is my next appointment?"

"3pm, sir."

"Very well," Draco stood and _summoned_ his gym bag. "I'll be at the gym until 2:30, working on my backstroke."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Back from the gym, Draco found a yellow note centered on his blotter, fastened with that damn sticking spell Chris liked too much. Draco frowned. He had a lovely, hand-blown glass paperweight collection for a reason, and it wasn't (just) to break them in fits of fury and then mend them.

 _ **Malfoy,**_ the note read in Temppeli's trademark rushed scrawl. _**I appreciate your willingness to sacrifice a large commission, but I can't take the Potter account. Much too busy.  
PS. You certainly may date him. If you break up and want to wreck his portfolio, I'll have Quarner take over.**_

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco tapped Temppeli's small, square note, then raised his wand to _Banish_ it. But he hesitated, still standing behind his desk, wand upraised. Should he?

It was prudent to retain proof that the boss approved of something (even only slightly) risqué, he decided, and - refusing to consider it further - pulled up the note. He had a special drawer, hidden with magic and an excellent furniture design. It held a cherished family photo that needed mending, his first work contract with Kirk, Temppeli and Chrám, and a few other sundries he wanted to hide away. It could protect this, as well.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sitting down, Draco looked about for Potter's chaotic, challenging file.

"Chris," he called. His assistant popped in. 

"Where's Potter's information? Did he leave it with you after Temppeli decided not to take the commission?"

"No sir," Chris shook her head. "I believe he left with it. Said something about needing mending?"

"I'll say," Draco sighed his weariness. "I've never seen a portfolio so poorly organized or cared for. Fine," he sighed. "Owl Potter. I obviously have to suffer his presence for another appointment."

Grimacing, Draco wondered at his own inability to choose an emotion. Did he want Potter, or not?

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It had been a long damn day, and Draco needed a drink. Preferably stiff.

"Chris!"

"Sir?" Chris stuck her head in the door. She was already wearing her travel cloak. 

"Did you schedule Potter for an appointment tomorrow?" he asked, tempering his voice. He didn't want to keep her, but he also really needed to know what to expect. 

"I sent three owls," Chris answered, looking uncharacteristically nervous. 

"Three? What the hell did you say? Never mind," Draco said, wiping his face with his hand. "We'll try again tomorrow, all right? Nothing to worry about. You go home to Shannon."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco forced himself to smile at Chris. She smiled back, clearly relieved.

"Of course, sir," she said, then rushed off - probably so he couldn't request anything else.

Draco considered that stiff drink he was anticipating. The Club? No, he was tired of it. He could try that new hotel bar near his gym. Hadn't he said something to Chris about wanting to try it? See if it was suitable for clients? He had said that, so he should do it. There, settled. 

He packed his things and headed for the front door. It was a nice night. He should walk.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The night air was cool and pleasant. The streets were shiny, post-rain. Everything felt fresh, and Draco found himself lengthening his spine and shortening his stride, breathing away a day full of stress and stupidity. There was no rush in getting to that hotel. It wasn't like he was meeting anyone. He frowned, then brushed away disappointment. So it had been a little while since he'd taken a handsome man to bed. That might well be changing soon.

Draco pushed open the door into the hotel's lobby and paused. Very nice, he decided, and turned to check out their bar.

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The bar (also a small restaurant), was easy to find despite zero signage. Something about either the architecture or the magic gave Draco confidence he knew where to go; and, arriving, he felt - not triumph - but quiet satisfaction. Depending on the service (and the food), he would almost certainly take clients here.

The bar itself was well appointed. Not richly, like Draco's Club, but everything appeared to be good quality, well-made, attractive and welcoming. 

"I get something you to drink, sir?" asked the house-elf that appeared at his elbow. 

"Yes," Draco said. "And I'd also like to see a menu."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The comfortable booth to which the house-elf showed him boasted a tall, curved seat of dark brown leather. The tabletop was a heavy slab of solid wood, with visible grain that made pleasing patterns. The menu was not long, but neither was it burdened with options Draco found unappealing.

Sipping 25-year-old Scotch, Draco was dithering between roast beef and salmon when he realized another man had entered the room, and was approaching Draco's table.

Surreptitiously, Draco cast a spell his father had taught him. _Praevidium_ simultaneously shielded him (invisibly, of course), and allowed him a view of the approaching man.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Potter." Draco didn't bother to look up. He made sure his put-upon sigh was barely audible. "Did Chris mention this place in one of her Owls? I assume you did not do me the favour of bringing your portfolio along."

Potter slid gracefully into the curved booth. A menu appeared in his hand. He smiled serenely. "Chris did mention it," he said, opening the menu. "But I didn't bring my portfolio." He put the menu down and looked up, pulling Draco's attention to his handsome face. "I suppose we will just have to go fetch it from mine. After dinner."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Ridiculous," Draco snapped. "I'm no house-elf. Owl the damn thing." He dropped his menu, touched the square edge of the wine list. He knew Potter was flirting. Wine? But… no. He wasn't ready.

"Well," he said, "lovely as this has been, I'd much rather leave _work_ to daylight hours. Good evening, Potter." He stood and looked down, perversely pleased to see some dismay on Potter's face. 

"Owl Chris quickly so she can set up that damn appointment. You make my assistant nervous. Which I do not appreciate." Draco moved to leave.

"Wait!" Potter reached for Draco's sleeve.

"No." Draco _Apparated_.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco paced a large square around the edge of his London garden. It was still a perfect evening.

Had he just erred enormously, or dodged a truly destructive hex? He couldn't decide. 

Theo had said they weren't _kids_ anymore. Pointed out Potter's fame, wealth, good connections; that he's even from a good family on his father's side. Theo had accused Draco of being unable to put the past aside.

Theo, Draco decided, was correct. Potter _was_ rich, socially and politically well-connected, and high-born. He was also really fucking hot, something Draco could finally admit - if only inside his own brain.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kicking at a square paver, Draco sighed. Then paused. He'd never paid for his scotch. He'd just… left. He felt so lost he'd stuck Potter with his bill by _apparating_ off in a huff like a petulant teenager.

Well this, at least, he could fix. Potter would have left by now, but Draco would pay his own damn bill and the hotel could send Potter notice of a credit on his account. 

_Apparating_ just inside the lobby, Draco strode back to the bar. Seeing a house-elf, Draco reached for his wallet, but paused, startled by a touch to his shoulder.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Draco," he heard, soft. Almost a question.

Fighting to keep his chin and shoulders high, Draco turned slowly on one heel. "Potter." He swallowed carefully, trying to hide the motion. Potter's eyes tracked his Adam's apple and Draco cursed his own lack of control. "I must apologize. I did not intend to leave you with the bill for my Scotch."

"Oh Draco," Potter sighed, looking defeated. "I don't give a shit about that. Look, do I have any chance at all with you? Can we leave our past behind, start over? I'd love to buy you that Scotch. Dinner, too."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco closed his eyes. He allowed himself the weakness of putting a hand to his temple.

"I'm that horrid?" Potter asked, soft as broken glass.

"No," Draco said to the floor. "Of course not. I am."

"No—"

"Look." Draco took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "You want to know if we can leave our past behind?"

Potter nodded. His brow was creased. He rubbed at the back of his neck.

"The honest truth is, I do not know if I can. All right? Part of me wants to, Potter. Those parts are mostly not above the neck."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Potter stared. "That good, or bad?"

Draco was slightly horrified to find even a _confused_ Potter sexy. "I guess it depends what you want," Draco admitted, finally looking Potter in the eye. Potter nodded, so Draco barreled past his own objections, realizing he could be honest. What the hell did he have to lose?

"If you want to, I guess, _date_ , it's very bad news. I'm completely conflicted and I've been going slightly mad since you asked me out. But if you just want to best me, fuck me into the mattress, what the fuck, Potter, I'm randy and bored."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco watched Potter's eyes dilate.

"Best you?" Potter asked.

Curious, Draco watched Potter's eyes as he slowly nodded.

"Fuck you?" Potter asked, his voice deeper already. Slower. Darker. Curling around Draco's skin without the benefit of physical touch. Draco allowed himself to shiver. Then he nodded, never breaking eye contact.

"I've paid the bill," Potter promised. 

Draco realized he was letting his libido decide. This was fine. It wasn't like going home with some random wizard. No one safer to trust with his naked body, right?

Potter reached out. Draco stepped past his hand, into his arm.

They Apparated out.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Had him," Draco imagined telling his astonished, even _jealous_ friends. "Nothing I need again," he imagined bragging. He'd be cool with a touch of disdain. His friends would never question his judgment or bravery again.

"Nothing exciting," he'd say.

Then Potter kissed him.

They'd apparently made it into Potter's lounge. Potter was slowly dismantling Draco from the skin in. From the objections out. Cynicism might go next, Draco realized. He pulled his mouth away long enough to ask if he was allowed any control at present, then?

"Not if I'm to 'best' you," Potter said, and returned to his efforts.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Stop…" Draco sputtered. Harry immediately stepped away, leaving Draco feeling he might, of all things, _swoon_. Draco frowned as Harry held his hands up in surrender.

"I'll happily try to 'best' you," Harry murmured, "but never without your consent. "Would you like to sit down? Have a drink? Floo home?"

Draco took a deep breath and decided right now, thinking was a terrible idea. He'd consider the repercussions of bedding Harry in future, if at all. "No," he said, working to sound utterly decisive and certain. "I wish to go to your bedroom. I prefer to get fucked while horizontal."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Draco," Harry said, smile thin. "Who's besting who, here?"

"Whom," Draco snapped.

Harry stepped in so close that Draco was amazed he couldn't feel the other man's touch. He forced himself not to sway closer.

"So, you want to be here?"

Draco nodded.

"Do you want to have sex with me tonight?"

Draco nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. _Tonight_ was good. Future later.

"When you said you wanted me to best you, did you mean dominance and submission games? Did you want me to be in charge?"

Turning his head to look at the wall, Draco nodded.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"This might be the only time I get to fuck you, yes?"

Draco nodded again, robotically, wishing the conversation was over and he wasn't being asked to think. _Thinking's for the future_ , he repeated in his mind like a new mantra. _Decisions are for the future._

"Then let go, Draco. Let me take care of you."

"Stop asking me to think," Draco whispered, feeling exhausted, anxious and not even remotely sexy. 

"I can work with that," Harry said, and took Draco's arm, abruptly _Apparating_ them into a bedroom. "Say 'bubblegum" if you want me to stop. Otherwise, no thinking necessary."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Once Harry understood what Draco wanted, everything changed. Harry issued polite orders, assuming they'd be obeyed swiftly, without question. They were.

"Remove your shoes." 

"Turn around." 

"Lift your hips." 

"On your knees."

Soon, naked, surrounded, obedient: Draco lost track of time. He touched and was touched. He kissed and was kissed. He sucked and got fucked. When he wondered what Harry might add, he forced himself to let go - to float, experiencing Harry's large hands, Harry's plush mouth, Harry's smooth, dark skin, Harry's skillful cock.

But as he came, he forced himself to focus. He would want to remember this.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lying stunned in the afterglow of the best fuck he'd had in longer than he could remember, Draco suddenly understood the cigarette cliché. He wanted to relax, but not sleep. He wanted to be near Harry, but not converse. He wanted… to have Harry again, he realized, the thought adding tension to his shoulders and jaw.

"I heard that," Harry said, his voice still sultry, dark and warm, even after they had come down from orgasm. 

"I didn't speak," Draco said stiffly, annoyed.

"Not with words, no," Harry agreed. "Do you remember your safeword?"

"We're done having sex!" Draco blurted.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Are we?" Harry said, leaning over him on one elbow. He reached out and caressed one of Draco's nipples, and Draco had to fight not to follow the touch, to arch into it and reveal his cravings.

"You're naked in my bed. Your come is still on my skin. I'm not hard, but I don't have to be hard to bring you sexual pleasure." He looked deep into Draco's eyes, and Draco stared back, completely unsure of what he might say.

"Do I?" Harry added, apparently requiring a response, despite Draco's preferences. 

"No," Draco whispered, succumbing to Harry's continuing spell.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Then we're still having sex," Harry added. "And until you safeword, you clearly agree."

It wasn't a question, but Draco felt himself nod in agreement, his response automatic. He'd long believed a truly charismatic dom could do this to him. 

Draco spent most of his life in perfect, seamless, rigid control. At work, every morning when he forced himself up and through a 90 minute gym workout, when listening to his father, when speaking with Mother, even when gossiping with his friends. 

Showing weakness was out of the question in every aspect of his life. Every aspect, save one: bed.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Roll over," Harry commanded. "I want you comfortable, hips on a pillow." Draco rolled over languidly, still stoned from Harry's touch, from the spectacular orgasm he'd had only ten minutes before, while Harry had fucked him into incoherency.

"Is your cock bent?"

"A little to the left," Draco said. 

Reaching between Draco and the pillow, Harry slowly adjusted Draco's dick, which twitched at the attention, but did not grow. _Not yet,_ Draco's brain added. Draco smiled at the thought as Harry spread his legs open wide.

"Are you extremely comfortable?" Harry demanded. Draco nodded his 'yes.'

Harry spelled him down.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"What!" Draco blurted, more surprised than worried.

"You'll find out soon," Harry said calmly, getting up. 

"I'm not crazy about surprises," Draco said, his brain far more engaged than he liked. He'd been floating on a cloud of sex, touch and obedience only fifteen minutes before. He needed to get back there. 

"You'll like this one," Harry said from the wrong side, the side Draco couldn't see. He felt tension adding itself to his shoulders, burning down his spine.

Then he felt Harry get back on the bed.

"Trust me," Harry said, and lay in the space between Draco's legs.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Harry knelt between Draco's knees, Draco tensed. When Harry sent heated breath at Draco's trapped thighs, Draco tried to relax. When Harry spread Draco's arse cheeks, Draco simultaneously collapsed into the mattress and tried - quite involuntarily - to clench his bottom shut, tight as a door.

"I'm going to rim you now," Harry said. "I'm going to rim you until you come. Or safeword," he added, ever clear about consent. "I'm doing this after you've already come once, because I intend to rim you for a very long time."

Harry put his tongue firmly to Draco's hole. 

Lost, Draco whined.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Slowly, Draco reemerged to himself. He lay on Potter's bed, on a wet spot so large he couldn't believe he'd made it alone. He was naked, his open legs lewdly spread, his arsehole dripped with wet.

 _Potter rimmed me_ , he remembered. _He rimmed me until I came. A second time. Untouched._

Mortified to have surrendered so completely, so pleasurably, to Potter, of all men, Draco attempted to get to his feet. Clumsy and disoriented, he only managed to get to the edge of Potter's bed before the man reentered the room with a full tea tray and a beautiful erection.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"How are you still hard?" Draco whined, then bent his head and breathed, seeking dignity. "I need to leave."

"Subtract the bullshit, Malfoy," Potter demanded. He placed the tea tray, then put one tea-heated hand in the middle of Draco's chest. Draco obeyed Potter's touch without hesitation, resting again on propped pillows, blushing all the way.

"I'm hard because your arse curves to perfection and your come tastes like candy. I'm hard because the most beautiful man I've ever seen is naked in my bed. You're not leaving until I allow it, Malfoy. We're not done here. Drink your tea."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Subtract what bullshit?" Draco muttered, cross. "I've been here hours, yes? I'm sure that's enough to claim you've 'bested' me." He felt his skin burn with fear and embarrassment, so he poured himself some tea and sipped it slowly.

It was lovely.

"Why did you want to be bested?" Potter asked. 

Draco waved a careless hand. "It was just a test, Potter. To see if you could fuck. You did fine, but I've had enough now." He looked at Potter sideways to see if he'd been believed.

"Tell me the truth."

"That was the truth, you arrogant arse," Draco lied.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Potter leaned in slightly. Draco stilled, waiting for Potter's declaration.

"Your lies are for shit, Malfoy. But I'm still hard from looking at you. Tasting you. So fucking try again."

Draco glared, but Potter didn't give an inch.

"Subtract," he demanded.

"The bullshit, yes," Draco murmured. Looking away, Draco decided honesty would get him out of Potter's flat, and clutches, the quickest. "I'm under a lot of pressure, Potter. Work and life. Getting fucked - getting sexually dominated - is how I relax. That's all. Very simple. I should leave." He finished his tea, but Potter put a hand on his arm.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You'll leave when I say. That, or safeword. You're ready for cock, and I'm going to fuck you again."

"But…" Draco quailed at the fervor burning Potter's eyes. Potter was serious and Draco'd come twice tonight, but he was nonetheless getting hard. 

"Legilimency is cheating," Draco whispered as he nonetheless placed himself under Potter's strong shoulders.

"Nothing is cheating," Potter declared. "As long as I honor your safeword and pull come from your balls, you belong to me Draco, and you'll do exactly as you are told."

"Yes, sir," Draco whispered, and felt his cock jerk with his speeding pulse.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Smiling at Draco's obedience, Potter gently moved Draco into a position he liked. Off the wet pillow, on his back, his legs on Potter's shoulders and his hands in Potter's hair.

"You will tell me," Potter declared, "when I hit your prostate with my cockhead."

Draco nodded.

"You will tell me," Potter growled, "if you like having my cock reaming your perfect arse."

Draco nodded.

"You will lie here," Potter husked, "until I fill your hole with my come."

Draco nodded.

"That's what I call subtracting out the bullshit," Potter praised, and he pushed his cock into Draco's loosened hole.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Merlin fuck," Harry panted, fucking slowly into Draco. "You have the most beautiful body. I love watching my cock slide into you."

"Feels so good," Draco moaned. He spoke quietly, but Harry heard him and smiled, taking a moment to stroke the sweaty hair from Draco's forehead.

"Think you can come a third time?"

"If anyone can make me, it's you and your magic cock," Draco admitted, too far gone to hold back the truth.

"Tell me what feels best."

"Stroke my cock, bang my prostate, in counterpoint, while you…" suddenly self-conscious, Draco paused.

Harry stilled, and stared at him.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"While I what, Draco? I can't fuck you right if you don't tell me."

"You've been doing fine so far," Draco snapped.

Harry smiled, self-assured. "Brilliant," he whispered. "But I want to do better than fine. I'd love to watch you come a third time. Then I'd love to put you in my bathtub and clean our come off your skin the old-fashioned way, with flannel and soap."

"Only you would think the Muggle way is the old-fashioned way," Draco said, but he had to smile. He gripped Harry's hair in his fists. "While you praise me," he finally admitted.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You haven't safeworded yet," Harry said, as Draco dressed.

"Should I?" Draco quipped. "You admitted in the bath. Your balls have never been emptier." He smirked as he tied one shoe.

"The sex _was_ incredible," Harry said, sitting naked on the floor in front of Draco, tying his lover's other shoe. "But yes - without your safeword - I'm still in charge."

"Really," Draco drawled, clearly amused. "Whatever shall I do?"

"Return," Harry demanded. "Friday night. Eight o'clock."

"You can't dom me into another date!" Draco sputtered.

"Yeah?" Harry challenged. He stood up, cock dangling - nearly in Draco's face. "Just watch me."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco stood, stepped away.

Harry took Draco's wrist and with it, Draco's full attention.

"You like praise?" Harry said, voice low and dangerous. "That's easy. You're almost comically beautiful. I never want to stop kissing your beautiful face, stroking your silken hair, grabbing and fucking your perfectly round, high, tight arse. You're mine now, Draco Malfoy. I own you. You'll undress and open for me every weekend until one of us dies or you utter your safeword. Prepare to get fucked, sucked, rimmed and adored within an inch of your life, wizard-man. You wanted to be bested? You have been."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"May I go, _Master_?" Draco spat. He was still unwilling to safeword and still unwilling to think hard about why.

"Not 'Master,'" Harry chided, eyelids low. "Just Harry. And yes. But don't forget to return. Friday night,"

"Eight o'clock," Draco finished. Raising his wand, he Apparated home.

Monday morning Draco woke at five, worked out, showered, Flooed to work. There he buried himself in paperwork.

Just before lunch, he took a small, pristine rectangle of parchment and with his nicest, most expensive quill, he wrote: _**Bubblegum**_. He stared at the word he'd written. But he did not summon his owl.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

All day Draco's little rectangle of parchment sat, un-sent, burning a hole in his brain. He stroked it. Folded and unfolded it. Placed it in his lowest, furthest drawer, then pulled it out again, needing to see it.

Monday evening it went home in his pocket.

It came back to work with him Tuesday morning.

... ...

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Draco stared at the note he'd written. "Bubblegum." He smoothed it in his fingers as he calculated risks, rolled it with his fingers as he checked costs.

Friday at six, he slipped it in his pocket and left with it again.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco arrived home with that safeword in his pocket and began to prepare for his date with Harry. Draco exfoliated, cleansed, and depilated his skin. When he was done the bathwater was tepid, he'd no hair left but on his scalp, and that was as straight, shiny, and smooth as glass. His face was cleaner and smoother than it had been in weeks. And that was saying something, as Draco was quite fastidious.

But when he raised his wand to Apparate to Harry's doorstep, the safeword sat in the front breast pocket of his suit jacket: parchment smoothed; ink freshened.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco knocked on Harry's door at 8pm to the second. Harry opened the door immediately. Hope, fear, need and surprise warred for control of his eyes.

Instead of entering, Draco pulled the parchment from his pocket and displayed it. Harry's face fell. A rockslide of knowing despair. 

But Draco did not hand the parchment to Harry, and Harry didn't take it.

"I wrote this Monday morning," Draco confessed, low and overwhelmed, even to his own ears. "I've held it all week. I've never managed to owl it to you."

"Why?" Harry asked, his shoulders high, his hands in his pockets.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco walked himself right into Harry's home and sat himself down on Harry's soft blue couch. Under normal circumstances he would never do such a thing without an explicit invitation, but these circumstances were so far from normal Draco didn't think he knew what 'normal' would even look like.

"I cannot continue like this. I cannot repeat last weekend." Draco eventually said, unable to raise his eyes as high as Harry's eyes. "But I don't want this… our… association to end."

"I don't understand," Harry said. He sat down on his sturdy wooden coffee table and looked into Draco's face.

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Eyes on the ceiling, face burning, Draco explained. "I need to be able to tell you to slow down, or do something else, or be less demanding, without fearing I've just sent myself packing. Forever."

"You need more control," Harry said.

"Yes. I need just slightly more control."

"But not all of it."

"Not even half," Draco agreed. "I wrote my safeword down because I wasn't thrilled with the _way_ you ordered me around. But I never sent it because I enjoyed surrendering. To you."

"Drop the attitude?" Harry guessed.

"That would help tremendously," Draco said, stress draining from him.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Why did you use the word 'best' in the hotel bar, then?" Harry asked, leaning forward slightly, hands clasped. He'd all but pricked his ears up high and started wagging his tail, Draco thought, forcing down a laugh. He was glad Harry wanted to listen. Very glad indeed. He'd not been confident of that before he'd arrived.

"I've been wondering that myself," Draco admitted. "It just emerged, spontaneously, and it became the most important thing I said all weekend."

Harry nodded, but said nothing.

"I believe," Draco said, unable to look Harry in the face, "it was about our… past."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"All right…" Harry tried. He clearly needed more.

"You bested me unambiguously, repeatedly, when we were boys. At Quidditch, the house cup, at fame, at pleasing teachers, at getting away with rule-breaking, even with attracting my father's attention. Indeed, I hated you to high heaven, while simultaneously envying you so deeply it hurt. Eventually I became a gay boy who found you physically attractive yet in every other way repulsive."

"Hm," Harry said. "Hard to move from there, to having me worship your body all night."

"Yet, we did. Does it surprise you I found it a challenging situation, emotionally?"

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"That really helps me understand," Harry said, still earnestly trying to make eye contact with Draco from his perch on that low wooden table.

Draco found it far easier to sneak glances at Harry, now that he'd managed to admit those embarrassing emotions. It was a surprising weight off his shoulders. 

"I'm sorry I made you feel challenging me would ruin our... night. I don't want a puppet! I only ever wanted…." Harry trailed off. 

Draco tried to catch his eyes, only to see Harry'd finally looked down at his own feet. "Yes?" he asked, impatient. "What did you want?"

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Nothing." Harry deflected Draco's question and stood. He stepped toward his kitchen. "Would you like tea?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but stood. "Tea is always good," he agreed reluctantly. Then he had an idea. "And you," he tried, stepping closer to Harry, who motioned for Draco to follow and turned away to walk down the hallway into the kitchen, "make excellent tea." 

Harry made a positive noise and they entered the kitchen. Draco sat and Harry moved toward the stove. "Last Friday night, you made that tea, and I was so much more relaxed, even after just the first sip."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco watched Harry's shoulders as he made the tea. Their rise and fall clearly showed when Draco's words made him uncomfortable.

"That lovely tea might have been part of why I could finally tell you the truth," he mused, needing to get Harry back on topic. Harry's shoulders rose. "Did you do something special when you made it? Maybe a potion?"

"Er," Harry said, still facing away. "No? But tea helps me relax, too."

"Sex is better, of course," Draco asserted firmly." Especially the right kind."

Harry turned around and put a steaming teapot down. "What's the right kind, Draco?"

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco had a sudden, intense memory: Harry, naked at his feet, tying Draco's shoe. He wanted that. Not subservience, but care. Attention. Time.

"The best sex," Draco snapped, "is surely between mind-readers. But my legilimency is mediocre. What sex would _you_ find best?"

Harry ignored him. "Lemon? Milk?"

"Sugar if it's no trouble," Draco said. "But why hesitate? Last Friday you were... uninhibited. Astonishingly so. Now you listen, but you won't speak! If you won't answer a single challenging or difficult question, Harry, I'll be quite annoyed."

"If I only knew you were ready to hear," Harry mumbled.

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Draco's blood boiled. "Is that what this sudden, ludicrous reticence is about?" he snarled. "You do, actually, have something to say? Words you could speak? To clarify? But you won't trouble yourself to take a fucking _risk_ for me?

"I would remind you," Draco said, standing taller, stepping closer, "the risks I took in coming home with you last weekend, and then in staying, and then in _returning_. For you, this fish has leapt so far from the water, I'm not sure I could find it right now." He narrowed his eyes. "Be a Gryffindor, arsehole."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry looked up, both hands braced on the kitchen table, and for one terrifying heartbeat of a moment, Draco thought his eyes had been replaced by burning coals. "You want me to tell you the whole, unvarnished, soul-bearing truth?" he asked Draco in a heavy whisper. "You think I should take some trouble to outline in exact detail what I want to get out of having sex with you? You want me to take a risk? Then what the fuck, Draco, let's go ahead and dance."

A bit stunned, Draco sat heavily in a chair across from Harry, and waited.

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Harry's eyes burned continually as he talked. Draco knew listening wouldn't be easy, but he couldn't walk away now. He had to hear everything Harry might say.

"When I saw you in your swimsuit, you looked like my wet dream made real." Harry ran one hand through his hair, making it even worse.

"You know, Ron and Hermione have teased me about fancying you since sixth fucking year, but I was horrified by the idea of wanting someone so cruel. It wasn't until I saw you nearly naked that I couldn't deny it anymore. So I asked you to dinner."

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"In retrospect, I'm honestly amused by my own naiveté. I should've known that ploy would never work. Just striding up, _me_ asking _you_ to dinner? Out of the blue? I should've known it couldn't be that easy. Of course, it wasn't. You fought, you snarled, you raised your spines so high I couldn't see beyond your objections. I knew I should cut my losses and run, but I just… couldn't. I needed to keep trying for your attention, unless and until something convinced me I absolutely had _no chance_ with you. That taking you out, even once, was truly impossible."

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Harry looked a little uneasy now, almost confused. Draco held his breath and focused his attention more sharply.

"But I was the one in for a real surprise, because as I spent all that energy chasing you, I started talking to the people who work with you, for you…. I found out, you aren't unkind anymore. You grew up, Draco, became a hardworking man. Honest, patient, caring, disciplined. Even kind. I bet you'd no idea I took your assistant, Chris, out to lunch a couple days before I showed up in your office?

Draco shook his head, just once. _No._

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I asked questions. I listened. How Chris talks about you, how Temppeli talks about you. Ran into Theo Nott, talked to him. By then I was lost, because I wanted you even more."

Harry broke eye contact and Draco reeled with shock. Fought to hide it. Harry had talked to all those people about him? None of them had said a word about any of it! And the things they had apparently said! He didn't know how to feel about this. Betrayed that people would speak to Harry about him behind his back? Comforted, eased, because it was all positive?

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

But Harry had raised his head, he had caught Draco's eyes, and though it wasn't easy to bring his mind back to carefully listen, Draco knew he needed to.

"So I kept seeking you, pursuing you. I managed to find out where you might go for dinner and I looked for you. To my shock, you asked me to fuck you. Instead of saying no yet again, you asked me to 'best' you. And I guess I went overboard, Draco, went too far, but I had finally gotten your consent to touch you and I didn't ever want to stop."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I don't really do bdsm, power games. But I'm no virgin. I've been to a club or two, checked out the internet. So I faked it. And almost destroyed my one chance. So you show up tonight, dangling your safeword in my face, and yes, I'm scared to open up, to lay it all out. I'm scared to give you the entire story. I know you always play the angles, you always want to get your due, and you always want to come out ahead, with at the very least, your fair share. More, if you can. You're not easy."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Honestly, I admire that. I try to solve everyone's problems. But you aren't like that. You're careful, thoughtful. Some would call that selfish. I used to, but not anymore. I'm not asking you to change! But I don't understand your Slytherin side, Draco, and I do fear it. From the moment you first turned me down, I'd no idea how to convince you I was worth a risk. So I tried to control you because it felt easier. Barrel in, wand blazing. Cast first, ask later. Lead with instinct. It's always worked for me. It's easy to fall back on."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry dropped his head. When he spoke again, his head stayed down.

"Do I look a blundering fool now? Seem a useless excuse for a man? A man as beautiful as you, probably think I should be more confident, always at ease. Does my need for your body seem pathetic? With my desire for more? All my cards are on the table. Do you win the pot? Saunter off with everything? Leave me bereft? Because I'm flying blinder than I ever have before, and I've no bloody idea what to do next. I don't know how to win you, Draco."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Overwhelmed, nearly speechless, Draco stepped into Harry's arms. As Harry's embrace closed around him they sagged into one another. Draco took a deep breath, and spoke into Harry's neck.

"We won't be easy, but we're incredible when horizontal. Let's give the rest a chance."

Ripping his safeword in two, Draco dropped it and put both hands on Harry's face. "I don't promise never to use my safeword, but it will be for something specific. Never make unwavering obedience the price of your bed again, and I will never again be fool enough not to reach for the stars with you."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hope gleamed in Harry's eyes, but instead of speaking he tasted Draco's lips. Draco expected intensity, but the kiss was yielding, sweet.

"I'm so happy," Harry said. "Is this real?"

Draco hardly knew. Was it? He'd thought his animosity overwhelmed his every common sense. 

"Won't be easy," he cautioned, unable to reassure Harry any other way.

But Harry didn't roll his eyes, or chide. He didn't voice a platitude, and he didn't dismiss. Instead, he blushed, and Draco saw dampness in his eyes.

"I know," Harry answered. "I want you anyway."

Draco took his hand, and led him to bed.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Fin 


End file.
